Two Poems

By Adam D. Weeks


Witness Marks

With a line from Emma Depanise

Softly, I’ll say touch
me, I’m antiquity with

a body that ticks,
that is ticking, that’s fallen
and fallen again into

time and out with this
other loud machinery—
how does the second
hand learn speed? I’ll tell you all
about you and me—
always leaving, landing, lug

-ging our hand-me-down
bodies into the years but

I am writing this
into history: fit in
-to me. Break into me. Oh,

how hardly I love
you and all the ways you’ve left
me—citied, littered
with one-way streets, with secret
gardens and hardened bodies

big as the sky, with
just as many eyes. My god,
how well you’ve mapped me.

Nuclear Music

With lines from Ani DiFranco

Adam D. Weeks is an undergraduate student at Salisbury University, the social media manager for The Shore and a poetry reader for Quarterly West. He is a Pushcart Prize nominee and has poetry published or forthcoming in Ninth Letter, Poet Lore, Puerto del Sol, Sugar House Review, Sycamore Review, Thrush and elsewhere.

Image Credit: Hans

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